crunch of rimed grass
dog circling, circling
not sure where to pee
Yep, it's a little rough out there, rather way too smooth! When you tiptoe through the frozen grass to get your newspaper and meet two of the neighborhood children skating down your drive without skates, you know it's a day to stay inside. But alas, Mr. Darcy needed a walk so I ventured out without my shoe chains (a present last year from Thom after I broke my wrist). Our street had some welcoming bare patches but Longwood--mistakenly ventured on--turned out to be a three block long sheet of ice. Most of the way, I skated also--easier to negotiate than walking, sliding, and just catching yourself before the big fall.
The huge limbs of the maple out front no longer hang just over the ground as they did yesterday. Even without any sun, the ice looks beautiful although it can be deadly to the trees.
But for haiku, the ice-world is so rare, that you can't help but notice everything new: the sheen on the bare branches, the small buds of ice on tiny limbs, the black sheen on the driveway, all the myriad shades of white and grey and black, and not to be forgotten: the wonderful sounds: crunch, clatter, tinkle, swish.
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